


Boss-Holzach-Matter Technique

by sanidine



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Chocolate Box Exchange, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-11 19:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanidine/pseuds/sanidine
Summary: Sheamus had no sooner set down the briefcase with the microchip than he tilted his head to the side, sniffed, and asked “Do you smell that?”Cesaro went still, heartbeat picking up speed as smooth as a sports car shifting gears as he inhaled. He couldn't smell anything like the slick motor oil scent of C-4, just the stink of sweat and gunpowder, ash and blood that clung to them both.





	Boss-Holzach-Matter Technique

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Chocolate Box 2019 treat! These two are so perfect for a spy/secret agent AU, I had to write something :D

The sun had just started to color the sky when they finally made it to the safehouse. It was a one room apartment with peeling paint and a great view of the facing wall across the alleyway and a strip of the rippling watercolor clouds above, hardly more than a hole in the wall of one of Barcelona's more nondescript neighborhoods. But the fact that it was uncompromised and not cratered out by a firebomb put it far ahead of both other places that Sheamus and Cesaro had tried to find refuge that night.

Once they were inside, Sheamus had no sooner set down the briefcase with the microchip than he tilted his head to the side, sniffed, and asked “Do you smell that?”

Cesaro went still, heartbeat picking up speed as smooth as a sports car shifting gears as he inhaled. He couldn't smell anything like the slick motor oil scent of C-4, just the stink of sweat and gunpowder, ash and blood that clung to them both.

“Smell what?”

“That fry oil. I thought we passed a bakery a few doors down.”

“Oh for -”

“We could go see if they have xuixo later...” Sheamus offered, looking hopeful.

Cesaro had to admit, pastries did sound good. Even the thought of it was enough to remind Cesaro that he was ravenously hungry. Jumping between rooftops burned a lot of calories, but -

“Hopefully there spare clothes in here will fit. We can't very well walk into a patisseria looking like this.”

Cesaro had only just begun to remove the ruined remnants of what had started the night as his favorite tuxedo - a regrettable loss, but hardly the first bit of clothing that he had sacrificed in the line of duty - when Sheamus sat down heavily on the floor. His fingers paused on the leafs of his dangling bow tie as he watched Sheamus attempt to get his arms around his knee. Classic position for the Davos reduction maneuver, Cesaro thought. But -

He hadn't realized that Sheamus’ shoulder was dislocated.

Cesaro had a pretty good idea when it must have happened, now that he thought about it. And it would explain why Sheamus hadn't complained when Cesaro had snatched the motorcycle keys when they’d had to flee through the labyrinth of El Born in the dark. Sheamus had been an absolute menace about insisting to drive whenever their paths had crossed before.

“I can help you with that” Cesaro offered.

“I got it.” Sheamus insisted, gruff, but now that Cesaro knew what was going on he couldn't miss the way that Sheamus struggled to lace his fingers together.

“Let me help.”

Sheamus relented with a shrug of his good shoulder and Cesaro sat down in front of him, pinned Sheamus’ foot under his thigh and held the man's wrists firmly together with both of his hands.  

“Aren't you forward, holding me down on the floor on our first date.” Sheamus was clearly trying for jovial, but his voice was tight as he tilted his head back towards the cracked plaster ceiling leaned away from Cesaro to traction the joint.

“This is hardly our first date.” Cesaro replied. It wasn't the second either. Or the third, or even the fourth. This Barcelona job marked the seventh time that their paths had crossed in the field. Seeing Sheamus on a mission had become, in it's own odd way, reassuring. As soon as he saw that shock of red hair Cesaro knew that he could count on something going terribly awry, but also that they still somehow salvage whatever objective they had -

There was nothing so dramatic as an audible pop but Cesaro could tell, from the look on Sheamus’ face, when the joint slid back into place.

“Everything alright?”

Sheamus stared at him, expression flat. “Ouch.”

Cesaro rolled his eyes as he let go of Sheamus’ wrists, then swatted his knee when Sheamus started to swing his arms back and forth.

“Hey! Take it easy on that shoulder! You're going to undo all my hard work.”

“All your hard work. Pfft. I'm just testing the range of motion.”

“I know what you are doing. That's the problem.” Cesaro shook his head. “I should make you wear a sling.”

“I'm not going to wear a sling. Christ's sake, it was just a dislocation.” But Cesaro was gratified when Sheamus did stop moving the arm.

“You're lucky you only fell off the second  story balcony.” Cesaro said “If you would've fallen off that skyscraper in Macau-

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a second there fella.” Sheamus interrupted “I did  _ not _ fall. I jumped.”

“Looked like a fall from where I was standing.”

“Weren't you in the middle of trading fire?’

“From where I had crouched, then. But my point still stands.”

“Hmmm. Fine. Maybe it was a controlled fall.”

“Next time you should control your fall into the back of the produce truck” Cesaro said “and not onto the hood of it.”

“Next time?” Sheamus said, in a hopeful way that confused Cesaro. Maybe Sheamus’ shoulder was still paining him. Maybe Cesaro should have insisted on the sling.

“Of course, next time. We work well together, no?”


End file.
